


whatever you will give

by cemetrygatess



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bad Sex, Bottom Julian Bashir, Communication Issues, First Kiss, Healing Power of Love, Hurt/Comfort, It's always communication issues with these two, Julian Bashir: alien fucker, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Elim Garak, POV Julian Bashir, Post-Episode: s05e15 By Inferno's Light, Post-Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Set Before Empok Nor, Top Elim Garak, sex as self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28998693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemetrygatess/pseuds/cemetrygatess
Summary: Julian had been revealed as an augment and yet his life continued on much the same. There should be punishment. There should be consequences.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 18
Kudos: 105





	whatever you will give

**Author's Note:**

> The sex in this fic is not great sex. That is not because of the acts being performed, but rather because of the emotions and communication involved.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this Julian reasoned. He was supposed to be in jail. His life as he knew it should be over. Once and for all he should be allowed to stop pretending that he deserved to be here. He had always thought, if the moment came, there would be some relief. Finally people would know. He ought to finally be free. 

But now, several months later, nothing had changed. He was allowed to practice medicine. He was allowed to be a StarFleet Officer. It was as if there had been no consequences for his parents’ actions. 

Oh yes, his father was going to jail. But the thing they prized most, the life of their beautiful perfect son, continued to be beautiful and perfect. 

They got to kill Jules and still win. They got everything they wanted. 

  
***

Garak observed that Julian was at Quark’s again. It was the fourth time in five nights. That was excessive even for him. It had been like this for the past month. Most nights, Garak left the shop long before the doctor left the bar. But when he did stay late working on a commission, more often than not, he saw Julian leave the bar with a stranger or two and head to the habitat ring. Neither gender nor species seemed to be a factor. Where before Julian was adventurous in this area, he now seemed undiscerning. From Garak’s vantage there was really no standard or pattern for who Dr. Bashir was willing to take home. 

In the light of day, he showed up to their regular lunches and engaged in their normal discussion of literature. But he was less forceful in his opinions, more willing to give in if pushed. He seemed continually distracted and not in the way he did when he’d consumed one too many James Bond Holos. 

It was only reasonable that Julian should behave in this manner. Over a month in a Dominion prison camp, and to then unceremoniously return only to be revealed as an augment shortly thereafter. Yes, Garak considered that of course his dear doctor did not quite feel himself. 

Garak finished closing the shop for the evening and decided he would say hello to Dr. Bashir before heading to his quarters. Perhaps Julain would appreciate a listening ear. Besides, the bar was nearly empty, so it was hardly the usual ruckus that Garak preferred to avoid. 

He approached quietly (old instincts never go by the wayside). But it seemed the Doctor's hearing must be more sensitive than unaugmented humans, for his gaze caught Garak’s long before he reached the table. Those brown eyes did not stop staring at him when he sat down. There was an intensity to the look, but no joy. 

“Garak,” he said with a nod. 

“Doctor, do you mind if I join you for a drink?” Garak asked. (By his count Julian was halfway through his third, though whether his alcohol tolerance was augmented remained an open question.)

“I was actually just leaving,” Julian replied, though there was no evidence to suggest that. 

“My apologies, doctor.” Garak schooled his face into something neutral enough. It was perfectly reasonable that the doctor wanted to be left alone. He was about to turn around and flee from the rejection, when Dr. Bashir spoke. 

“But if you like, you can come back to my quarters with me.” 

Garak tilted his head. Surely he didn’t mean… 

“I wouldn’t want to be an imposition,” Garak replied a little too quickly. 

“I would rather like if you were,” Julian said calmly, standing up. “But only if you want.”

“In that case, lead the way.”

They walked to Julian’s quarters in silence. As they walked, Garak thought about what would come next. Certainly, he had imagined this moment for years, to be in Julian’s loving embrace. And this would not be that. This would only be physical, carnal. He wondered for a moment if he should have said no, that it would be easier to go on being in love with Julian and being friends with him without this additional complication. 

But then, Garak had had a hard few months himself. Maybe he wanted to do something selfish and short-sighted.   
  
As soon as the doors closed behind them Julian turned and addressed Garak.

"I want you to fuck me like a little _ko’sal_ slut."

Garak was taken aback for a moment. He didn't usually find himself taken by surprise. How did the doctor know that word? Certainly it wasn't in any of the books he'd lent him. 

Well Garak had wanted the Doctor for some time. What did it matter if it was a little less softly put than he would have liked. So what if his dear doctor had not asked him to make love to him?

"I can do that," Garak replied. "Here or in the bedroom?"

"Bedroom," Julian answered decidedly. 

When they passed the threshold, Garak shoved him down into the bed. 

“You’re like a Risian slut,” he said. “You’ve let half the station fuck you.” Garak let something like malice creep into his tone, though he felt none. Julian was perfectly fine to do whatever he pleased in the bedroom, and it did not change Garak’s estimation of his value in the least. All it did was inspire prickling jealousy. 

“You should punish me,” Bashir replied, looking up at Garak as if it were a challenge. Elim crawled on top of him, more than willing to be what Julian needed for one night. 

“Be careful what you wish for my dear doctor,” Garak said biting down hard just under Julian’s ear. His skin was salty sweet, and the smell was so heady as to nearly send him into a frenzy. 

“Don’t call me that tonight.” His voice was hard. 

“Why should I take requests from cheap whore?” Garak asked, pinning Julian’s hands above his head, and continuing to bite the human’s neck. 

Tonight, he wouldn’t kiss Julian. That at least he would reserve. What Garak wanted so dearly was for this to be about anything more than physical needs. He worried that if he kissed the doctor, Julian would sense his feelings, and Garak would find them irrevocably unreciprocated. Besides, the treatment Julian requested didn’t seem like it necessarily contained kisses. 

Heat radiated off the doctor. He was so mammalian, and Garak wanted nothing more than to curl up with him. To feel their bodies close and to find peace in that closeness. But Julian had no wish for peace, so deft work with his other hand opened the front of Julian’s uniform, exposing the blue undershirt of that ridiculous uniform. 

He let go of the doctor’s arms for long enough to let the human remove his undershirt, before pinning him back down rather forcefully. With vigour he then proceeded to do what a Cardassian knows best - to bite and bite hard. 

Julian’s shoulders were captivating, with a narrowness that was alien but no less alluring. Garak found it was no labor to bury his face in them and bite. The planes of the doctor’s skin were achingly beautiful. Brown like the deserts of Cardassia, the human body sang to him like a different kind of home. 

“Harder,” the doctor kept calling, blushing and flustered. 

And so he bit harder and harder until he drew blood. Tasting the tang of iron, he recoiled, horrified by what he had done to his friend. The blood dripped in rivulets, dark red against brown skin and grey sheets. 

“Please, keep going,” Julian begged, seeing no doubt the look of horror in Elim’s eyes. 

“You’re sure?” Garak asked. 

“Hurt. Me.” The tone left no room for questions. 

Those brown eyes, often so soft, looked at Elim with determination.   
  
“Then take your pants off you little slut.”

Julian obeyed. Pants flew to the floor. Garak followed suit, removing his own clothing. 

Julian turned around, kneeling on the bed. His ass was breathtaking, and for a moment, Garak forgot that this was a game he was playing.

Garak reached his hand down to his ajan, stimulating it in such a way as for his prUt to evert almost instantly. It came out dripping and eager; the view after all was appreciated. 

Into Julian, Garak slowly sank. The sensation was intense, warm and tight. Elim let out a moan. He rocked gently, forgetting that he was supposed to be rough. It felt so good as to push all other thoughts from his mind. Oh he had imagined this yes, but never had really thought it would happen or that when it did he would find the reality better than the fantasy. 

“Fuck me, Garak. Fuck me like you hate me.” Julian’s words broke him out of his stupor, and he began to move more and more quickly with more and more force. 

Before he knew it he was slamming into Julian, who was keening and howling. Garak thrust with vigor, trying his best to hold back his own pleasure until he felt Julian getting closer. 

The human began to tense around him, and Garak let it throw him overboard, cumming hard. Julian reached for his own cock, bringing himself to orgasm just as Garak was finishing. 

They collapsed on the bed in a sweaty pile, both spent.

Shortly afterwards, Julian got up and went to the restroom. 

Garak laid there, reflecting on what had just transpired. He had done all manner of things in bed back in his Order days. And while he’d done it for the state rather than any real pleasure, he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t often been pleasurable. No it wasn’t that Garak wasn’t game for such activities, it was just that with Julian (his Julian) he craved something sweeter. 

As Garak got up to get dressed, Julian exited the restroom. 

“Would you stay?” Julian asked, with a certain vulnerability that nearly stopped Garak’s heart. 

“Of course.” 

They slid into bed together again. Garak noted some wetness on the mattress from his own excretions. Julian scooted towards him, and Garak allowed himself to hold Julian. It was like sleeping with his own personal furnace, one that fell asleep in his arms. 

His heart felt tight and he did not fall asleep for sometime. 

***

Julian felt intangible. Going to work. Going to the bar. Getting lunch with Garak. Playing darts with Miles. It was like he wasn’t really there. 

But then he hadn’t been for over a month, and no one had noticed, so he might as well not be. 

Miles had said his replacement was easier to get along with. He knew that was a joke, meant to roll off the shoulders like so much rain. Instead the comment had run circles around his head until that Bolian trader had edged him for nearly two hours, all the while telling him how depraved he was. He hadn’t even found the man that attractive, he just seemed like the kind who could humiliate him out of his numbness for a bit. 

His coworkers weren’t the only ones who couldn’t tell him apart from a fake. Even his parents couldn’t tell the difference between him and holographic facsimile. That was a state of affairs Julian had encouraged. He didn’t want to see them, and he limited his visits to only those he strictly could not get out of. It wasn’t unreasonable that they’d forgotten what he was like. He lived in their minds as a vision of a perfect son. So of course the real Julian and a hologram were indistinguishable. They were both playing a part. 

But what hurt the most was that Garak hadn’t known he’d been replaced. Garak who was sharp and incisive and always paying keen attention. Garak who listened to him every week at lunch for half a decade. Garak who he loved. It was stark evidence that Julian was not special to him, merely a source of afternoon entertainment. 

***

Several weeks later, Garak was closing up his shop for the evening when Julian came by. The look on his face was enough for Garak to guess what would be asked of him, and what would inevitably occur. 

“Are you busy this evening?” Julian asked. 

He meant to curl up with a book and some Delavian chocolates. He’d meant to have a hot tea and to try to let his mind be empty for as long as possible. 

“For you Doctor, I am always free.” He hated how true it was. 

“Would you want to come back to my quarters then?”

“Lead the way.” Elim smiled, but not a real smile. 

They walked in silence. Garak couldn’t bring himself to replicate their flirty banter at a time like this. All Julian wanted from him was a physical experience, after all. 

When they reached Julian’s quarters, and the doors had closed, the doctor spoke. 

“I want you to tie me up. And I want you to deny me orgasm.” 

“Well in that case, doctor, let me replicate some rope.”

As he did so, Julian stripped down to nothing. He walked to his bed and laid down on his stomach, spread eagle. Garak began to tie, starting with one of Julian’s ankles. 

“Tighter.” Julian’s voice was firm. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

Julian nodded. 

“No I’m going to need you to say it,” Garak insisted. 

“I will tell you if it’s too much.” 

One by one, Garak tied Julian’s limbs to the corners of the bed, using the feet as anchor points. When he finished, he stood back admiring his handiwork. The human was nothing if not beautiful, all smooth arching lines, and thin strong limbs. 

Garak wanted to kiss and lick every corner of Julian’s body. He wanted to tell him over and over that he was good and beautiful and perfect. To focus on nothing but the human warmth, and to let his cold scales melt into human skin. He wanted to wrap his arms around Julian and have Julian wrap his arms around him in return. 

Instead, he stripped down, and stimulated himself enough to evert. 

This didn’t seem like an occasion for foreplay, so Garak entered Julian. He began thrusting vigorously until he felt the human began getting closer. And then he would withdraw, leaving Julian tied and alone. He repeated this half a dozen times over the course of an hour, all the while calling Julian a whore in both Kardassi and Standard. Finally, Garak could not hold his own orgasm back, filling Julian. 

“Should I untie you now?”

Julian nodded, and Garak went about untying him. 

When he was untied, Julian rolled over. His cock was erect and leaking precum. It was pure instinct that made Garak lean towards the doctor. He envisioned placing soft bites along Julian’s neck, and bringing him to a long overdue orgasm. But before Garak could do so, Julian stood up and walked rather awkwardly to the restroom. 

Garak lay back on the bed, tired and confused. He didn’t know what to do or what to say in this relationship dynamic. He didn’t know if he was supposed to stay or to leave. So he just waited. 

The doctor came out of the bathroom 10 minutes later, flaccid and showered. He said nothing, instead lying down next to Garak and curling into him. Garak rolled on to his side, spooning the doctor. 

Just as Elim was drifting off, Julian sniffled, and Garak realized Dr. Bashir was softly crying. Garak didn’t know what to do, or what to say. He just kept holding him, hoping the Doctor could feel the love in that embrace. 

***

The worst part was knowing that everyone would know for the rest of his life. Every new friend, every new assignment, and he would be the augment doctor. Isn’t it a miracle he isn’t Kahn they would say. A marvel of engineering they would say. 

Who could really love such a construction of flesh and bone? It was like loving a starship or a building. He was built, not born. The humanness burned out of him, and into this loveless husk. Strong, sure. Smart, sure. But who really looked at such a thing with anything more than polite affection? He was relegated to the sort of love reserved for lesser beings like the household pet. 

There was absolutely never again any point in dating. Because really, who worth having could look at him like anything human?

It was easier to let strangers do all sorts of things to him, to hurt him. It was the treatment he deserved. 

He’d asked a Klingon woman for sex that broke bones. He’d let a Bajoran couple pee on him. Any number of station inhabitants had treated him like a quick fuck. It was easier to receive treatment that aligned with his understanding of himself. There was less pretending involved. 

When he was feeling his lowest, he’d ask Garak to do it. He knew he'd only ever be Garak’s plaything, an idle amusement for a boring evening. It wasn't what Elim did, it was what he didn't do and what he didn't say that hurt most of all.

***

A chime came at the door. It was already 21:00 hours, and no one ever came by Garak’s quarters at that time. He was sat down with a robe and a tea and a novel. He knew who was at the door, and what he wanted him to do. 

Garak paused, considering for a moment ignoring it. Only for a moment though. Being anything to the doctor was better than being nothing. 

“Come in!” he said. Garak stood, placing his PADD on the couch. “To what do I owe the pleasure, doctor?”

“I was hoping you could treat me like someone you’re trying to get information out of,” Dr. Bashir replied. 

Elim let out a low growl, and pushed the doctor up against the bulkhead hard. 

“Like that?” he snarled. Not waiting for an answer he sunk his teeth into Julian’s neck. 

Julian let out a gasp halfway between arousal and pain. Garak grabbed each side of the doctor’s uniform, ripping it open. He was just as quick with the second layer. The ruined pieces drifted to the floor, leaving the doctor’s torso bare. 

He reached down, twisting the doctor’s nipple till he squealed, and then twisting it a little more. As he did so, he sank his teeth into Julian’s shoulder. His approach included no steady escalation, only swift pain. 

Suddenly, it was all too much for Elim. His actions were completely unlike those of a real interrogation. And the taste of human sweat and the sounds of human pain were alien. All the same, it all reminded him too much of another doctor, one who he really did interrogate. 

He didn’t really ever want to hurt people. For a long time, he’d let himself become numb to it. He had had to survive working for the Order. But civilian life had changed him. Julian had changed him. If push came to shove he could do what it took to get a job done, but this was not a job. This was pointless pain, pain he did not wish to inflict. Pain he could no longer bring himself to inflict, no matter how much it was desired. 

Garak let go of the doctor, taking a step back. 

“I… I can’t do this anymore,” he said, more emotion in his voice than he’d given permission for. 

Julian looked at him, eyes searching. 

“I understand,” he said. His voice was distant. “I wouldn’t want someone like me either. A freak. Completely unnatural. Three times was pushing it.” 

Julian headed for the door, seemingly unbothered that he didn’t have a shirt on. Garak cut him off. 

“You think I can’t do this because you're an augment?” Incredulity slipped into his tone. 

“Why else?” Julian looked at him, big beautiful brown eyes full of hurt. 

“I can’t do this because I… I don’t want to treat you the way you ask me to,” Garak said plainly. 

Julian didn’t respond. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Julian. I want to make love, not fuck you like some cheap whore, and certainly not hurt you. I can’t pretend anymore. Some lies are too much even for me.”

Tears sprung to the Doctor’s eyes. 

“Say it,” Julian said, no less commanding than in bed. 

Garak opened his mouth to argue, opened his mouth to deny it, and instead the truth fell out. 

“I love you.”

It should have been mortifying to admit. Garak knew he was giving the doctor a knife to stab him with. But he trusted Julian. That was the worst part 

At these words the doctor crumpled like a man made of paper. No longer tall, he curled into himself, pulling his knees up to his chest and bowing his head. As he did so, Julian began to weep. It came out in big heaving sobs, as if he were struggling for air. Garak crouched beside him, rubbing his bare shoulder in slow circles. He made a gentle tsking sound, the one that mothers made on Cardassia to soothe their young.

They stayed like that a long time, and only long after Garak’s knees began to grow sore, did the doctor rise. He pulled himself upright, wiping the tears from his face. Garak rose too. 

“I didn’t expect that from you, Garak. To take exactly what I’ve wanted to hear you say for so long and to turn it against me like that… But then you were always very perceptive, and no doubt a skilled interrogator.” The doctor sounded weary, but more solid than he had in weeks. 

It took Garak a moment to digest the words and to understand what Julian had meant. With dawning horror, he realized that Julian thought his confession was merely a part of their game, a tactic in a fake interrogation. 

“I think though, I would rather be alone now. I don’t know how I’ll face you for lunch at the replimate tomorrow,” the doctor continued with a sad smile. He walked towards the replicator, obviously intending to replicate himself a shirt so he could flee. 

“Julian. I didn’t say it because I thought you wanted to hear it. I said it because it’s true. I had no expectations of you returning the sentiment.” Garak took a tentative step towards Julian, the way you might approach a wounded animal. 

“You said sentiment is the greatest weakness of all,” Julian said. In his voice there was something accusatory, something probing. “You said that to me in 371.”

“It was meant as an honest evaluation of my own weaknesses, my dear. You watched me watch my father die. I couldn’t let him die Tain my mentor, he had to die as Tain my father; a role uncomfortable for us both. I was sentimental then and I am sentimental now.”

“You, sentimental?” Julian responded with incredulity.

“For you? Yes.”

"Julian Bashir, augment. You love him?” There was a raw hurt that crept into the Doctor’s face. 

“Yes.”

“And you're sure it's not Julian Bashir, changeling you fell for?”

Garak shook his head. 

“My love predates that unfortunate experience.”

Julian began to cry again, this time silent tears ran down his face. Elim moved forward, wrapping the doctor in his arms. Like gravity, he collapsed into him. Garak ran his fingers through Julian’s hair, experiencing the softness. 

“I know you may not believe it, my dear Julian, but I love you regardless of any failing, real or imagined. I love you, not some copy. Not some different purer version of you that you think is out there is somewhere. I love who are now, even if you don’t. I love you, and no one has the right to change that, not even you.”

For a long while Julian just held onto him, like a man adrift in space. Finally he spoke. 

“I love you too, Elim.”

With that the doctor kissed him, soft but firm. And Elim’s heart beat with hope: 

_Finally. Finally. Finally._

***

Curled in Garak’s arms that night, Julian didn’t feel like an augment or a mistake. He simply felt loved. At the revelation, he began to tear up. 

“Dear…” Garak sounded concerned. 

Julian turned, their faces pressing close together. 

“They are happy tears, Elim. They are tears of relief.” 

Elim pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Julian felt for the first time in months like a man with a future. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was nervous to post this, so I hope you enjoyed it. Comments and kudos are always treasured.


End file.
